


Bang Bang

by Forgetmenot18



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is done with everyone, But it’s okay because I love him, Drama with Lance’s mama, Fluff, Lance in prison, Lance is kind of a hoe, M/M, Maybe this will turn out good, Pidge is still mistaken as a man, Prison AU, Sendak is a bitch, Slow Burn, Spanish use!, Violent Outbursts, anyway, here we gooooooo, i dunno, lance is a thief, maybe? - Freeform, oblivious keith, pining lance, prison break - Freeform, put on your seatbelts and hold on tight, strong use of language, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 10:25:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14851002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forgetmenot18/pseuds/Forgetmenot18
Summary: Lance McClain is wanted for masterminding and carrying through several major heists, causing the disappearance of $252.3 million total. Bored with his current life, Lance turns himself in and soon discovers Prison is not as exciting as he had originally thought. As Lance plots his escape, he meets a corrections officer placed in Combinado Del Este. Lance realizes he has deep feelings, whether it is Hatred or love.Keith Kogane is just a kid from Texas. How he had found himself in Cuba, working in a prison full of murderers, rapists and theives, he had no idea. He had learned to loathe his job, especially when he met inmate “3A8713”, also known as Lance McClain. Maybe Keith despised him because of what the Cuban has done, or maybe it was because of the way he acted around him.





	1. Bang Bang

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank @Koctsu on Instagram for allowing me to use their art as a reference and inspiration for this fanfiction!  
> I hope you all enjoy my very first fanfiction (EVER!!) I put a lot of work in researching Combinado Del Este and the way the men live there/what it is like! If I make any grammatical mistakes in my Spanish, please tell me so that I can fix it! (I took two years of it in HS and a semester in MS!)  
> Thank you so much for taking time to take a look!   
> Lots of love, R  
> [See more notes at the end!]

There was the soft clinking of metal against metal, The sound of soft soled shoes slipping over the hard cold cement. The steps echoed throughout the boringly bare halls, reaching the ears of a recently caught criminal, guilty of robbing several high-end jewelry stores, A few local banks and recently, a heist in a Santiago De Cuba bank, resulting in the disappearance of $172.4 million. _In total, he had taken $252.3 million, not that he was keeping track or anything._

This thief was never caught, no, he was too cunning for that. He was bored, and in his growing state of apathy, Lance Charles McClain, at the age of 22, became the #1 state criminal. He turned himself in, and now sat on a bench, sandwiched between two large men dressed in prison uniforms, in the prison that went by; ‘Combinado Del Este’. It was close to home.. Maybe a little too close.

The ride in the cop car had been long and awkward, since Lance had randomly driven up to the nameless cop, explaining that he was wanted for theft and that he wanted to turn himself in. The cop had looked surprised, especially when he searched up the man Lance claimed to be. The man had muttered a few complaints, one being that he ‘was just supposed to be watching for speedsters on the highway’ and that he hadn’t had ‘signed up to deal with high up criminals’, while scratching at his receding hairline.

After an aggressive push against the car and an irritated grunt from Lance, he was shoved into the back seat, told to shut up and comply. The cop went through the miranda rights with a bored tone before driving off to the nearest station, where he was then transferred to the prison.

His silver cuffs clunk together again, causing one of the guards to cast him a glare.

“Oh, c’mon, I won’t run”

Lance huffed, looking towards the man he assumed was the sergeant, since his uniform was far more decorated than the guards. He was beefy, that was for sure. He had a strange haircut, a tuft of hair, stark white sat above nicely shaved deep grey sides. And on his nose, a long scar stretched from cheekbone to cheekbone. Gnarley.

“There is no need for handcuffs, really” He said, giving the man a goofy smile while nudging him gently with his left shoulder. The large man merely grunted and kept his eyes forward, obviously unamused with his actions.

The smile slipped away from his lips and he rolled his eyes, huffing softly.

“Eres aburrido” He muttered under his breath. At his use of spanish, the guard to his right looked towards him, raising a brow in question.

“BORING” Lance explained, his voice hinting with annoyance. _Why the hell didn’t this guard know Spanish? He was in Cuba._

He had turned himself in because he wanted things to become exciting, but this was the very opposite.

As Lance sat back, the door at the end of the hall opened, and a woman in a warden’s uniform sauntered forward, looking ahead with a stony expression. Lance stood, leaning forward as she came closer. She had white hair, pushed into a painfully tight bun. Her skin was a deep chocolate brown, a stark difference from her snowy hair. _She was pretty, to say the least._ She was so different from what Lance was used to. She had an air of command to her, which earned her her new nickname.

“ _Princess_ , you are no fun.” He pouted, pushing his bottom lip out as she glanced at him. She was unamused.

“C’mon, Princess, unchain me! I am sane enough to never leave such a beauty like you~”

The warden looked towards him, her nose wrinkling as a look of disgust settled on her features. She seemed appalled that he had flirted with her in such a blatant manner.

“You are the #1 state criminal, don’t you dare request such absurdity”

Her voice was quiet but hard. _So, she was the ‘no funny business’ type_. With that, she stood before the guard to the right, giving him an order. The guard stood, dipped his head, and left, leaving through the same door the warden had come through. The woman took the guard’s place, clasping her hands in her lap, looking forward with a blank expression.

Lance sat with a soft huff, his brows were furrowed in a deep frown. With his remaining dignity, he forced a smirk and leaned against the scarred sergeant.

“What about you?” He purred, lifting a nicely kept brow. “Will you be my hero?”

Lance’s voice was sweet and soft. As much as he tried, It didn’t faze him. The man shook his head.

“You heard the warden, the handcuffs stay on.”

Lance blew out air from his nose as he sat back once again. _This was no fun whatsoever. Those TV drama’s lied when they said the life of a prisoner was exciting. ‘Orange is the new black’, that is what you could call false advertising._

Silence enveloped the bare gray hallways, it was deafening. Lance felt as though he would go insane, but before he could complain, the muscular sergeant looked towards him.

“You look bored.” He said. Lance felt like scoffing. _‘No shit, Sherlock’_ He thought as He pushed his feet forward, crossing them at the ankles. This caused him to slump farther down on the bench.

“Well… yeah?” Lance said, frowning at him.

The lanky man looked him over quickly, eyes stopping at the name tag that was pinned to his right breast pocket. It read ‘Sergeant Takashi Shirogane’ In small bold letters.

“Wouldn’t you be bored, Takashi?” He asked, meeting his deep brown eyes.

“I mean, come on, even the pin boards are boring!”

He exclaimed, throwing out his shackled hands to the corkscrew board that held a few papers, probably forgotten, Along with a few small pictures of criminals. He felt slightly offended that he, the #1 state’s most wanted criminal wasn’t hanging on the board. The words were faded, the paper bleached from the small rays of sunlight that came from the small rectangular window above them. Yep, most definitely forgotten.

The warden shushed him harshly, turning towards him with an annoyed glare.

“Keep your mouth shut, we do not need you causing a ruckus,”

Lance had to stop himself from snickering. _Who in the bloody blue hell says ‘ruckus’ anymore??_

“What’s your name?” He asked suddenly, ignoring her squinted eyes.

“It is Warden Allura, that is what you will call me. Not ‘princess’”.

She said sternly. Lance pouted, making an attempt to cross his arms before giving up. “That’s no fun” He huffed. The Warden shook her head slowly.

“You are here to atone for your crimes, not to have fun, Mr. McClain.”

His wrists had began to sting as the minutes passed, his skin becoming red as he moved them around restlessly, his fingers fidgeting absentmindedly with his pants. The cuffs continued to clatter and clinck noisily, refusing to loosen around his wrists. Lance would glance down every now and then, frowning at the skin that had began rubbing away from the metal.

Not that he would admit it, but he was upset that they were causing him some damage. Yeah, he had struggled a bit when they locked them on, causing them to tighten before the first guard could double lock it, so they were tight, he accepted it was his fault, but he still didn’t like it. He wasn’t prepared for the bigger man to be so aggressive when putting them on him.

“What are we even waiting for?” He muttered, glancing towards Sergeant Takashi, his eyes half lidded with ennui. God, he was so bored. Takashi turned towards him, sighing softly.

“Please just be patient.” The sergeant said, sounding weary and tired. Lance had no idea he had that effect on others, he thought he hyped people up, made ‘em excited and happy.  
_That was a bit of a rude awakening, but whatever._

There was a loud buzz that rang over the coms, causing Lance to look up quickly, his blue eyes trained on the speakers across from him. Shiro stood, grabbing ahold of Lance’s arm, pulling him onto his feet before pulling him down the hall, past the door that the warden had recently walked through. Sergeant Takashi led him to a small room, where a short man stood, dressed in white scrubs, his hands covered with the light blue plastic gloves. Lance stared at him, his expression void of emotion.  
_How had he forgotten about the strip searches??_

Takashi released him, nodding curtly at the man before leaving, closing the door behind him.

“All right, please strip” Said the man. His face was weathered and leathery, his tanned skin sunk in at his cheeks, giving him a more haunted look.  
Lance endured the very impersonal search, remaining silent the entire way. He didn’t feel like making any jokes about his own embarrassing experience.

Afterwards, He was given a light grey vest, a pair of grey cargo pants that matched the vest, two bleach white t-shirts, a thick sweatshirt, boxers, and a pair of socks with slip on crocks. Yes, crocks. Lance scrunched his nose at the colors, but got dressed, slipping the white undershirt and grey top over his long torso. Once dressed, he clutched his remaining clothes in his arms while following the squat man he had done the search.

Lance was traded off to another officer, Who grabbed his arm, pulling him down the hall, into a room. Inside of this blank walled room was a few dozen smaller rooms, each having the same sized doors. As Lance looked around, he saw that each room was empty, devoid of any life it seemed.

“Hey, where is everyone?” Lance asked, glancing at the guard from the corner of his eye.

The man continued looking forward, his steps never faltering as he began speaking.

“Lunch… Okay... “ The guard stopped, looking inside of a room with a small bunk bed. Hidden in the corner was a small metal toilet and a sink, and beside the bed, across for the opening of the door, was a small rectangular window. Homely.

“Welcome to the fish tank, _pescado_. You will be staying here until we find you a cell with an official roomate. For now, you will be staying with one other recently caught felon.” The officer nudged Lance forward, looking at him expectantly.

“Well? Hurry up so I can show you to the dining hall.” The guard tapped his booted foot against the hard floor quickly as Lance looked towards the beds, finding that one was cleared of any belongings and clothes, and it was made with sheets and blankets. It looked untouched. So Lance threw his new clothes onto it and sighed, turning towards the guard.

Despite his lack of time to look around, the quarters were horrendously dirty, the walls were covered in wet looking grime and dark molds that stuck out of the cracks of the bricks. It looked so unkempt and ignored that it caused his stomach to churn violently. The smell seemed to latch onto his nose, causing his sinuses to burn.

A few minutes of awkward silence later, he was in a large pavilion filled with tables of chattering men, ranging from all shapes, sizes and ethnicities. Most had tan trays with meager portions of unrecognizable meals in front of them.

“This….. This is awful” Lance murmured, his eyes wide as he looked around.

The guard snorted softly. “You got lucky being placed here and not Fortaleza de San Carlos de la Cabana or Guantanamo Bay, pescado.” He said, shaking his head slowly.

“Dios, dame fuerzas” He muttered under his breath, walking forward slowly, his long legs bringing him forward in lengthy strides. A few heads turned towards him as he walked down the isles, some wore blank expressions, some looked angry, others unreadable.

“No use in praying, chico” The guard said before turning and leaving. Lance was left by himself, standing in the middle of the rows.

“Brilliant” He growled beneath his breath while turning towards the long island that separates the dining hall from the small unsanitary kitchen. A large man stood behind it, in front of him was a few sink like containers that held the food. Lance stepped forward and grabbed one of the small trays, holding it out to the man with a meek expression. He stared Lance in the eye as he lifted a ladle and spilled runny potatoes, a small piece of unseasoned chicken, and some peas onto his tray.

They were such small portions, but Lance decided not to complain. Instead, he turned and looked around at the packed tables, there seemed to only be a few open spaces near a few unfriendly looking individuals. With a soft gulp, Lance walked forward, carefully making his way past the other felons and cons. He reached an empty space and sat down, staring down at the tray with mild disgust.

  
Someone then cleared their throat softly beside him. He turned towards a lanky and thin man, his face scruffy and patchy. His eyes seemed lively enough though, despite his starving appearance.

“It isn’t bad if you eat it quickly, try not to breath during bites” He murmured, nudging him gently with his elbow.

His voice was deep and hoarse, but gentle. He sounded a little like a long term chain smoker, not that Lance would say that to him. “You must be new here, must be one of the fishies.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’m Rolo” He extended a hand towards him, the action awkward due to the lack of space they had between each other.

“Uh…. Lance….” He paused. “My name’s Lance” He said while shaking the hand. His skin was so callused and hardened that Lance had to force himself to keep the contact until the man pulled away.

“Welcome to prison” Rolo chortled softly, glancing towards Lance’s tray.

“You might want to eat that before a big guy comes and takes it for himself.” He said while rubbing his dry hands together anxiously.

  
Lance took note of what Rolo said, and began eating, forcing down the plain food with quick gulps. The chicken was dry, and the potatoes when down like thickened water, causing him to gag softly before choking it down. And to make it worse, they were lukewarm at best.

He finished quickly, doing as the man had told. When he finished, he pushed the tray away, sighing softly as he did. Rolo had gone back to talking to a few other men, his voice hushed. Lance hesitated for a moment before lifting a hand, gently poking at the man’s bony shoulder. When Rolo turned, Lance smiled.

“Thanks for the tips” He said, dipping his head an inch or so respectfully.

Rolo merely shrugged. He turned back to the other thin inmates next to him, talking in a hushed tone, leaving Lance to his own devices.

The tall tanned man stared at his tray, think of home and his family when he felt someone grab the back of his new vest. Lance looked up just as he was tugged from the bench. He landed on the hard cement floor with a soft yip, his hands slapped against the floor, the sound seemed to echo throughout the now quiet dining hall. A large man stood above him, a permanent scowl sat on his scarred features.

“Looks like we got fresh meat” He growled. “He ain’t got much on ‘im” He continued, his voice booming.

Lance frowned while slowly standing to his feet. He ignores the small spasm in his lower back. He kept his chin high and his eyes defiant.

“Did I do something to make you so pissy?” He asked. He crossed his arms over his chest.

A slight twitch reached the bulky man’s left eyes, his hands rolling into fists. And suddenly, Rolo was in front of him.

“Buzz off, Sendak, leave him alone” He warned with a hard stare.

“The piscado needs to know his place, now out of my way, hombrecito.” 

“No” Rolo said, his bony shoulders squaring as the large man flared down at them. 

“I said. Move.” Sendak extended his hands and pushed against Rolo’s chest, sending him stumbling back against Lance. The hit into the table with loud grunts. As the bulky man came forward, there was a sudden sharp whistle.

“Calm it, Inmate” 

The voice had a warning to it, as if they would take shit from anyone.

Lance looked towards the direction of the voice, and his breath seemed to leave him as he met the deep violet eyes of a corrections officer. He was striding forward, his hand placed on his walky. 

“Inmate, Leave them be” He continued. 

Sendak grunted and walked off, a small group of fellow prisoners following at his heels. 

Lance helped Rolo stand straight before looking towards the officer. 

He was of average height, maybe 5’7. He had a lithe frame, covered in his dark uniform. His hair was jet black, tied into a loose pony tail. And his eyes. They were intelligent and hidden, his emotions unavailable to Lance’s eyes. Lance felt a light tug in his chest, and that is when he decided he did _not_ like this officer.

“gracias” Lance mumbled softly.

The Officer looked towards him, his eyes still hard and guarded. “no hay problema, recluso”

He said before turning and returning to the entrance of the dining hall, clasping his hands in front of his pelvis. Lance was definitely not used to being called ‘Inmate’, and he really didn’t like it.


	2. Tearful Visitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mama McClain comes to visit and Lance realizes just how much trouble he has gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayo, look who’s posting another chapter! I’m very sorry for the long wait!

A few days had chugged slowly on by, nothing much had changed. Lance found that when he wasn’t in the dining hall, he was supposed to spend his time in his cell or in other thoroughly watched, designated areas.

Of course, they would get an hour out in the courtyard, which Lance despised because how was he going to work out for only an hour a day?

The prison also happened to have a library, where he could check out a book. He hadn’t recognized most authors or names when he went through them for the first time.

In the end, he chose a large book with a faded and torn cover. The pages had turned a deeper yellow due to age. On the inside of the front cover, splayed on the first page were the word “IT”.

Lance recognized it and sighed. He hated clowns, but he remembered seeing the original movie when he was a child. _At least it was somewhat familiar._

At first, he thought maybe he didn’t have a bunk mate after all, but, he was incorrect. He found out that Rolo happened to share the same cell, to Lance’s immediate relief.

Rolo has been excited to see him, he mumbled on about how he had spent a few weeks with a meth-head who couldn’t seem to stop losing his hair before he was moved to a different cell.

The first few days went on like this, Lance read, listened to the thin man with snow white shaggy hair tell strange stories about prison and what he had experienced.

Some seemed far fetched, but Lance didn’t complain, it got him away from his thoughts on how he had fucked up in a massive way.

A pair had also visited him. They had appeared at the barred cell door on the night of his first day.

One had been short with a pair of wire thin circular glasses. His eyes were large and boyish, making him look a lot younger than he probably was. His hair was a sandy blonde, cropped short with what could have been a pair of dull, rusted scissors.

Beside him was a literal copy, just taller and a little older, minus the glasses. He looked kinder, friendlier, even with the scar that stretched over his left cheek, reaching his jaw.

The smaller one looked like he had a secret, probably a big one at the smirk that was plastered on his lips.

“Lance McClain, wanted for the disappearance of $252.3 million, illegal drug and arms dealing across the US border, arson, and small scale bombing at large casinos.”

The short boy said with a wicked gleam in his eyes. He leaned over, holding the bars with thin fingers.

His voice was higher and remind Lance of a girl, but he wouldn’t point that out.

“Never caught, not even once...” His head cocked to the side, causing his bangs to fall over his forehead. He gave Lance a quick once over.

Lance had stared at them, eyes wide with surprise. “Who the hell-“

He was quickly cut off.

“But suddenly- He turns himself in.” The boy continued to stare at Lance, and it took all the tall Cuban could do to not squirm under the intelligent amber eyes that hid behind large glasses.

“You’re not here because you truly regret your crimes, are you?” He practically purred the words. The kid was definitely mocking Lance.

Lance’s expression shifted into one of annoyance. His brows dipped and he put his arms over his chest, crossing them.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.” He grumbled.

The little boy ‘tsked’ softly while giving a uncommitted shrug. He stood there for a moment, as if thinking of something else to say before turning on his heel. He left quickly, the smirk still on his lips.

The taller boy lingered for a moment, smiling sheepishly at the glowering Lance.

“Um... Hey, I’m Matt, That was my little brother, Pidge” He said quickly, seemingly anxious to stay there.

With that, he gave a small wave before leaving quickly, his footsteps echoed throughout the hall, slowly getting quieter before the sound stopped all together.

Lance was left there, staring at the outside of his cell in utter confusion.

 

-

  
His first morning had been awful. He had been shaken awake by a frantic Rolo, his eyes wide.

“Come on then, wake up, it’s breakfast time” He said before scuttling out of the opened door.

-

Lance had bumped into the CO with the mullet a few times that morning. . .

_And yes, when his hair wasn’t up in a hurried ponytail, it was left down, brushing against the back of his shoulders in messy half-curls._

Of course a man named Keith from Texas would have an 80’s styled mullet.

How he obtained this information on where the cold and distant mullet man lived before coming to Cuba was... _Purely coincidental?_

_Well…_

He had badgered Rolo about him for hours while trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing. He needed to know his new rival’s backstory so that he could look for possible weak points.

_Why else would he want to know?_

The man named Sendak kept Lance on his toes. He would give him dark glares and would shove past him through the halls big enough to fit the both of them easily.

The Cuban thief had a feeling this man had been sent to prison for multiple counts of murder, maybe he was a hit man? He seemed like that type. He was scarred and muscular, and he stood at least half a foot taller than Lance, who was 6ft tall.

_He probably worked for some rich white billionaire who got his wealth by taking out his competition before he was caught._

The thought caused Lance to chortle softly.

It was Lance’s fourth day, the food was still awful, but he no longer gagged because of it, which could be seen as a win. It was 7 AM, and he had just sat down with his tray when Rolo pulled up beside him, his eyes bright as he grinned from ear to ear.

“Did ya’ hear that visitation is happening tomorrow?” He asked enthusiastically.

“Do ya’ have any _familia_ to comin’ visit you?” He asked the questions quickly, obviously too ecstatic to let Lance speak.

“Yeah, I have familia, big familia, actually” Lance looked down at the tray while he prodded at the waxy looking slice of ham.

“I am not sure my mama would want to visit though, I have a feeling she is rather disappointed with me” He looks up and gives Rolo a lopsided and forced smile.

The thin man shook his head quickly. “Don’t give up hope, mate, give her a ring on the communal phones, ask her to come”

Rolo’s slapped Lance’s back reassuringly. “You’re her son, her mijo, don’t let your own regret keep her from seeing you, hm?”

Lance looked up at him, expression slack as he met the shining eyes of the wiry man beside him. He swore Rolo was insane, but then, he was so damn smart, or at least it seemed like he was.

“Yeah, you’re right” Lance hummed while looking away from him. Rolo made a soft noise of victory before falling quiet.

“So um.... Where do I do that...?” Lance asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Ah, you go to the registrar, you tell ‘em the name of your visitor and they’ll write it down and give you a time” Rolo explained while nibbling on the chewy slice of ham.

“Can you…. ummm… Can you show it to me?” He asked. His brows were pinched into a confused frown.

“I don’t really know where anything is.” Lance admitted with a small shrug.

Rolo set his fork down and nodded his head. “Yeah, follow me!” He stands and grabs Lance’s wrist, practically pulling him off of the bench.

They threw away their food and set their trays away, making their way towards the exit.

The CO, Keith squinted at them, lifting an arm as to halt them. “You shouldn’t be leaving the dining hall. Where do you think you two are going?” He looked at the with a deep, suspicious frown.

Lance began stumbling over his words, which caused those deep violet eyes to land on him. Lance felt a flush creep up his neck. “We-“

“I am bringing him to the phones and then to the registrar for visitation” Rolo said, cutting Lance off.

Officer Keith looked between the two of them for a moment before dropping his hand. “I better not find out you two are causing trouble, _Entender_?”

Lance nodded, feeling dazed at the CO’s use of Spanish. He could tell he hasn’t known it for long, his accent was forced, but he knew what he was saying.

Lance stumbled before following behind Rolo, who seemed to bolt as soon as Keith moved out of the way. He could feel those eyes on him, following as they moved quickly.

And then they were at the phones. They looked ancient, hooked to the walls. They were giant and boxy, and connected to those were short curled lines that held onto the ‘C’ shaped phones.

” _Dios mío, ¡NO voy a usar esas piezas veijas de mierda!“_ He cursed while pointing to the phones. “I am NOT using those, do they even work??”

Rolo looked towards him with a frown on his brow, the look was accompanied by a roll of his eyes. “ _Seriously, chico, no actúes como un coño_ ” He grumbled in his deep voice. “Don’t act like a pussy” He repeated, this time in English. He gave Lance a small push towards the phone before crossing his arms over his chest.

Lance sighed and trudged over to the phones, feet dragging against the floor noisily. He groaned softly as he lifted the phone to his ear and punched in his mom’s cell number aggressively.

It rang once.

Twice.

A third time.

Lance was about to give up when a voice popped up between the line.

“A prisoner from Combinado Del Este is attempting to make contact. Press one to connect.”

There was a soft dial noise. Something crackled on the other end, and then the soft voice of his mama sounded.

“Lance…?” She whispered.

Lance sucked in a sharp breath and clutched at his chest, tears already filling his eyes, threatening to fall over. He swiped at them aggressively with his arm before speaking.

His voice was soft and pleading. " _Mamá... mamá, escucha, lo siento mucho... Mira, sé que he metido la pata, pero por favor... ven a verme... necesito hablar contigo en persona, cara a cara. Por favor, hazlo por mi..._ " He spoke gently, trying to persuade her to come.

Rolo has his back turned to Lance, watching as another random CO stood watch over the two of them.

Lance listened as his mother spoke to him, her words sad and broken. Lance couldn’t handle hearing her this way and the fact that he was causing this reaction didn’t make it feel any better.

Finally, she accepted. Lance’s eyes burned as he listened to her small talk. “Okay, mama… I will call you back soon…. _Te amo.._ ”

Lance heard a soft shuffle against the phone, a light sniffle, and then a soft; “Te amo, Lance” and then she hung up, leaving him standing there with a forlorn expression.

He hung the phone up and turned towards Rolo, who had recently looked back at him. “Hey, you did good, chico” He said. He came forward, patting Lance on the shoulder before moving away. “Let’s head to the registrar, piscado”

-

By the end of the day, Lance had signed up for the 4:00 PM visitation slot, called his mom again, informed her of the time, and then went back to his cell.

He now laid on the overly thin mattress, his eyes heavy with fatigue. Rolo continued to ramble about how he had stolen multiple luxury vehicles, one being a brand new $13 million Rolls-Royce. He had explained how he had hot wired it and stole it from under the ‘trashy billionaire’s nose’. Lance was unable to hear the rest, because he had fallen asleep.

-

The next day went by in a kind of blur. Lance shuffled about after being woken up at 6 in the morning. He hadn’t been assigned a job yet, so he wasted his time talking to a busy Rolo. When they were allowed out of their cells, Lance wandered, half-assedly searching for the two men that had showed up to his cell on his first night.

Sadly, he wasn’t able to find them, so he went to the finding hall, got breakfast, and sat down. He stared at the watery eggs, small bowl of grey oatmeal and small link of sausage. He made a face before quickly inhaling his food.

Time seemed to slow as he glanced at the clock, wanting nothing more than for it to be 4. He wanted to see his mama again, and maybe if he was lucky, she would bring along Mateo.

Before his meeting, Lance took a quick shower, wearing his crocks and a look of disgust at the sight of the sectioned showers. He was in and out in only a few minutes, he wouldn’t stay for longer than absolutely needed.

He then got dressed, allowed his hair to air dry, which led it to curl around his tanned forehead.

And then it was 4 and his name was called over the ratchet PA system.

Lance slowly made his way to the large room that held other prisoners and their families. He peeked through the window and sucked in a soft breath as he saw his mom, sitting alone at a stone table.

A CO let Lance in, and moved out of the way, allowing Lance to trudge towards his mom with a meek expression and dragging feet. When he sat, he realized the table had a thick cement slab to separate their feet. Maybe that’s for the best?

Mama McClain stared at him, her deep brown eyes sad. Lance hated that. Hated the way she looked at him. But it was his fault, so he had to live with that.

She sat hunched over, her usually proud posture gone. Her lower back length dark brown hair was pulled into a messy bun, curls hung down and around her face. She was wearing his favorite dress of hers. A light blue dress that fit her form perfectly.

She looked so tired.

  
“Hola, mama….” He forced out finally. He gave her a small smile and reached for her hands, stopping as she pulled back from him a bit. The boy’s eyes widened and his lips formed a soft “oh”.

She saw this reaction and quickly clasped his hands in hers, eyes growing fierce. “Lance Charles McClain, you idiotic boy” She said quickly. “I raised you well, and you become a criminal?? A felon?”

Lance flinches, looking down at their hands. He had expected this kind of reaction.

“Si, mama… But it isn’t your fault…” He said softly.

“Damn right it isn’t my fault.” She said sternly. “ _Dios mío, hijo, ¿qué hice mal?_ ” She whispered beneath her breath.

“If you were having trouble with money, you could have come to me, Lance” She said, her eyes suddenly softening. “I could have helped you, but instead, you got yourself here…” She shook her head slowly.

Lance felt tears welling up in his eyes again, stinging as they threatened to fall.

“I know, mama, I am so sorry…” He whispered.

His mom sat back, sighing softly. “I am glad you realize what you did was wrong, but saying ‘I am so sorry’ will not get you out of prison. Perhaps you confessing will lower the years, but Lance, you will be here for a very long time..” She said.

Lance nodded solemnly. He knew.

For the rest of the visit, they talked about family, how his mama had yet another job, and other things along that line.

The hour ended all too soon, and he was forced to leave. He gave her one last quick hug, filled with tears and ugly crying, before he was led out of the room by a woman in a correctional uniform.

Lance spent the rest of the day curled up in his bed, wallowing in his own self pity. Being the drama queen he wouldn’t admit to being, he threw himself a small pity party in his mind.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration: @Koctsu on Instagram 
> 
> Translations:   
> Mamá... mamá, escucha, lo siento mucho... Mira, sé que he metido la pata, pero por favor... ven a verme... necesito hablar contigo en persona, cara a cara. Por favor, hazlo por mi...  
> = Mom ... mom, listen, I'm so sorry ... Look, I know I screwed up, but please ... come and see me ... I need to talk to you in person, face to face. Please do it for me...

**Author's Note:**

> Follow @Koctsu on IG!  
> https://www.instagram.com/koctsu  
> Thank you!


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